


The Taming of a King

by doctormccoy



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Commission fic, D/s undertones, Dirty Talk, Finger Fucking, Gags, Humiliation kink, M/M, PWP, Post-BOFA, Power Kink, References to rope bondage, Riding, Throne Sex, Wooo!, mild breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctormccoy/pseuds/doctormccoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anyone who questioned why Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain took a scribe from a lesser family with no real wealth or political influence as his consort clearly did not understand Ori, son of Fori, very well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taming of a King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ibijau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibijau/gifts).



> Commission delivery for Tagath! 
> 
> A note that Ori and Thorin do have safe words and signals to slow down and/or stop but none were needed in this fic thus they are not mentioned.

Anyone who questioned why Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain took a scribe from a lesser family with no real wealth or political influence as his consort clearly did not understand Ori, son of Fori, very well. 

Anyone who actually believed that it was because their King had a soft spot for weak lovers was just a downright fool.

While Ori may be physically smaller than Thorin and less skilled in the ways of killing another living thing, "weak" was definitely not a word that the King would choose describe his fiery young lover. 

"And to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Thorin asked in a low, amused hum, eyes sweeping over the form of his Consort and Erebor's Chief Scribe seated on his throne, wearing the dwarf King's own crown and heavy leather coat, the one lined with warg fur that Thranduil had returned along with their weapons after the Battle. Thorin was rather fond of that coat, but, not as fond as he was of the sight of Ori wearing it.

Wearing _only_ it.

The smaller dwarf shrugged imperiously, uncrossing his legs and beckoning Thorin closer with a single long finger, unnaturally long for a dwarf, grinning at the dark haired King.

"We have both been busy lately and it seems I only ever get to see my King," Ori chuckled, letting his eyes roam over the sight of Thorin in his tight black leather before flicking his finger again, head cocking to the side.

"Undress for me," he demanded, the corner of his mouth quirking up when Thorin visibly hesitated at the prospect of baring himself in the vast throne room.

"That was an order from your King. Don't you want to make me happy?"

Ori gestured at the heavy golden crown resting on his head, eyebrow arching at the dwarf. It was midday and everyone was currently occupied with lunch, training, or work. There was no worry that they'd be interrupted. 

It was worth the risk, at any rate, to see the way Thorin immediately snapped to do as he was told when made aware of the situation, and Ori licked his lips in delight at each inch of muscled flesh that was bared to his greedy eyes. His gaze swept over him to take in the thick pelt of black hair on the dwarf's chest, belly, and thighs, focusing in particular at the thatch settled in the v of his pelvis, pleased to see Thorin was already responding quite enthusiastically to the game.

It was a familiar one, after all. One they had been playing long before they even left the Blue Mountains. 

Out in the world Thorin may be King Under the Mountain, but in their bedroom he was no royalty. He belonged to Ori and Ori alone.

Well aware of what he was to do now, Thorin stepped out of his clothes and slid up onto Ori's lap, straddling his thighs on the wide seat of the stone throne and gripping the arm rests for balance, leaving himself completely on display for the scribe's scrutiny and play.

Pleased with his pet's obedience, Ori reached up to reward him with a pat on the head, running his fingers through the King's thick dark hair. Like a dog getting scratched behind the ear, Thorin closed his eyes and pressed into the touch, shivering at the pleasant rub against his sensitive scalp. Thorin had a bit of a thing for Ori's fingers, knowledge that the younger dwarf was more than happy to exploit on a regular basis.

"We only have a little while before someone comes looking for their King, so we'll have to be quick about this, pet," Ori murmured, cupping his hand under Thorin's chin and smoothing his thumb over his lips, admiring the way they darken at the contact. He's pleased when the taller dwarf pulls the digit into his mouth and suckles it by way of response, removing his thumb and replacing it with his three dominant fingers.

"I want you to leave your hands where they are since I didn't think to bring your cuffs with me."

"Yes, my King," Thorin whispered and tightened his grip on the stone armrests, earning a pleased smirk from his young lover. "Good boy."

Ori removes his fingers from Thorin's mouth and slips his arm around the King's body, brushing the wet digits up and down the crack of his ass to tease and dragging a desperate little moan from him, the dwarf unable to help the way he automatically presses back against the contact. The moan becomes a whine, though, when the fingers retreat and disappear into the deep pockets of the coat, clearly searching for something.

The first thing he pulls out is a bottle of oil, set aside on the armrest for now until he needs it. The second is a shiny metal ball gag and Ori grins wickedly as he admires the soft leather straps, lined on the inside with soft sheepskin to avoid any unneeded discomfort or injury. Usually it was reserved for use when his pet needed to be punished, but, Ori figured it'd be a wise investment for this as well.

"Can't have you yelling and bringing Dwalin and the rest of the guard running. Wouldn't they be surprised to see their King skewered on his scribe's cock, begging to be fucked like the sweet little whore he is?"

Thorin's skin flushed interestingly at this but he opened his mouth obediently to allow the gag to be put in place, teeth clacking slightly against the metal while Ori cinched the belt tight against the back of his head. He isn't quite as pretty as he was when the scribe had him trussed up on their bed, arms behind his back and wrapped in leather cuffs that went from his wrists to above the elbows, with intricate knots of white rope wound around his torso and thighs leaving beautiful bruising in their wake, but, Ori could make do. And there was always later that night after the evening meal. Right now there was that cute little blush to address.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Ori growled, hand dipping between Thorin's thighs to rub his knuckle against his perineum, causing his thighs to buckle slightly at the surge of pleasure this caused. "You'd love it if I took you like this for your entire Kingdom to see."

He waited until Thorin nodded, whimpering faintly around the gag that has his lips stretched so obscenely wide, unable to stop the saliva escaping his mouth and soaking his beard. Ori growled and thrust his knuckle hard against the King's perineum, offset by the almost tender way he nuzzles at his pet's neck.

"Maybe tonight I'll invite Dwalin to come and watch, hmm? Let him get an eyeful of his King tied up like a pretty little present and begging for cock."

That would never actually happen of course, but, Thorin whined with desire all the same, his cock now fully hard and jutting out from the bed of coarse hair like a hammer, the tip glistening and ruddy with his arousal. Ori ignored it, though, in favor of letting his fingers slip a little further back to brush across the pucker of Thorin's entrance, already twitching with the need to be filled and who was he to deny his pet when he'd been so good today?

Still, teasing Thorin is too much fun and Ori makes a show out of popping the cork out of the bottle of oil and slicking his fingers, making sure the King is watching as he thoroughly wets each digit. The scent of rosemary follows the clear fluid and he arches an eyebrow at the desperate King, prising one hand off the armrest and giving him the open bottle to hold.

"Be careful not to drop it or tip it. You can't very well ride my cock if you've lost all our slick on the ground," he purred, admiring the way Thorin's cheeks darken and his eyes grow over bright with tears he would shed soon enough. He's nodding obediently, though, and spreads his knees even wider over Ori's lap, inviting the oil soaked fingers where he needed them most.

The scribe takes his time opening up his pet, rubbing the fingertip in a steady circle against the fluttering pucker before finally giving into Thorin's choked off whimpers and sinking a digit into his silky heat, sighing delightedly at the way the dwarf's body seems to suck him in hungrily.

"Your sweet little hole missed me, pet. Maybe I'll have to start leaving things inside you all the time, to keep you filled and open for me while I'm busy with work," Ori whispered, swiping his tongue over the dark bruise he'd just suckled high onto Thorin's throat, where the dwarf would be unable to hide it. He twists his finger inside him to punctuate his point, drawing a ragged cry from behind the gag. Like most dwarves, Thorin's fingers were short and wide, making it nearly impossible for him to reach his own pleasure spot without assistance. Ori's fingers were still wide, but longer than average, and while they were generally put to use in creating neat, delicate script they also served the purpose of filling Thorin up in the way the King craved. 

When Ori has finished thoroughly massaging and softening every inch of Thorin he could reach he withdraws his finger, only to skewer back inside with a second digit. The King's hand now visibly shakes with the effort of holding the vial without crushing it or spilling it, thrusting back against the fingers fucking him open to try and drive them against the place he wanted them.

"Ah, ah, my pet. Keep yourself still or I'll take my pleasure in you and leave you aching for release all day," Ori growled in warning, smirking when Thorin's hips immediately go rigid, muscles twitching and jumping with the effort. There are tears streaming down the dwarf's cheeks, now, and the scribe allows himself a moment to enjoy them before he's leaning up to kiss them away, lapping at the salty liquid.

"Such a good boy for your King. Do you think you've earned my cock now, beloved?" He punctuates the question with a sharp twist of his fingers against his pet's prostate.

Thorin's nodding desperately, arm twitching with the automatic reflex to give Ori the vial before stilling, keeping it resting on top of the arm rest until he was ordered to hand over the oil. The lighter haired dwarf is impressed by Thorin's learning curve. The last time he'd disobeyed, Ori had spread him out on his stomach on the bed and beaten his supple ass with a wooden paddle until it was bright red and hot to the touch. He'd then jerked himself off so that he left his release in vivid white stripes across his love's aching ass before settling down at his desk to work while Thorin remained on the bed to think about how misbehaved he had been. He'd made him wait until the bell rang for midnight before finally letting him grovel for forgiveness, kneeling between his scribe's thighs and sucking him off. He'd still gone to bed aching with need that night, but, the lesson had been about joy through obedience, not his own gratification.

Still, Ori was hardly a cruel lover and he'd rewarded his beloved pet the next morning with his mouth on his ass, licking him open so that he could fuck them both to completion. Thorin enjoyed it far more when his ass was played with than anything to do with his cock, so it was a pretty fair reward.

Ori withdrew his fingers from Thorin's body and took the oil from him, dribbling it over his length to get it slick. Like his fingers, his cock was longer than an average dwarf's and is both longer and thicker than Thorin's own, standing up proudly from the nest of wiry copper-blond hair between Ori's thighs. 

"Going to need you to show me how bad you want my cock, pet. Think you can ride it for me?" he hummed, cupping his hand against Thorin's throat and squeezing slightly. The dark haired dwarf nodded eagerly, rocking his body so that he was positioned over Ori's cock. Pleased by his enthusiasm, the scribe guided Thorin by his grip on his throat to impale himself on the thick length, his other hand gripping the base to hold it steady so he could sink onto it. 

The King hadn't been nearly stretched enough to accommodate him easily, but Thorin liked the burn of being opened up on Ori's cock, whimpering faintly around the ball gag as it sinks inch by inch into his core before he's finally flush against the younger's hips. The hand around his throat tightens to reward his obedience and the pleasure he gets from the control Ori has over his breathing makes Thorin's eyes roll back in his head. 

"You can move now, my pet, but do not come until I allow you. Don't make me regret not bringing your cage with me," Ori hums, leaning back on the throne so he can watch as Thorin begins to rise up on his cock, loosening his hand on his throat in response. His "cage" was a shiny metal chastity device that buckled over the King's cock and balls, keeping him from coming, and Ori only used it when Thorin came without permission or he had been especially creative with the knotted ropes and wanted a little something extra to complete the picture of his bound, gagged, and blindfolded pet.

Even the mention of the cage had Thorin's eyes watering once more, body clenching around Ori's cock when he sank back down onto it as he tensed, trying to prevent himself from even thinking about coming without permission.

Ori's hand tightens when he's fully sheathed in Thorin's body again, growing progressively tighter as the King fucks himself harder and faster on his cock. Thorin's hands have remained tightly gripped onto the armrests, knees aching at the unforgiving stone beneath them, but he is clearly loving every second of it, beard wet with saliva and the tears still running unashamedly down his cheeks. With Ori he didn't have to be benevolent ruler and fearless fighter, he could just be Thorin. There were no decisions to be made because Ori was King here and he made all the choices. It gave Thorin a measure of freedom he never expected to have in this position and Ori was a natural at giving the dwarf exactly what he needed. 

Heat coiled in the scribe's stomach and he knew his orgasm wasn't far off, not with the silky heat of Thorin's body clamped tight around his cock, pulling him deep inside the dwarf's core each time he bottomed out. A slight change in the angle of his hips and he's now nailing Thorin's neglected prostate with each thrust, sending the King to new heights of pleasure judging from the strangled moans he was making. His pet has gone red from his labored breathing between the ball in his mouth and Ori's hand around his throat but Thorin is far from discomforted by it. On the contrary the dwarf King is eating it up, cock jumping each time Ori's grip tightens just enough to cut his breathing off entirely, leaving him light headed and gasping on the edge of release.

He's so close he's actually afraid he'll be unable to stop himself from coming when his scribe finally, _finally_ , growls out the order to come in his ear, slamming his hips up into Thorin to find his own release deep inside him, hand tight around his pet's throat for five short seconds before releasing him entirely. The rush of air into Thorin's aching lungs is all it takes to throw him head first into oblivion, his screams of pleasure muffled behind the gag as he paints his release across his own belly. 

Weak from the lack of oxygen and the intensity of his orgasm, Thorin can't help when his body gives out and he collapses forward against Ori's chest, arms shaking uselessly at his side and breathing harshly through his nose. The youngest Ri brother is too content, body buzzing comfortably after his release, to be unhappy at his disobedience, however, and he runs his fingers soothingly through Thorin's silver streaked hair, cock still buried inside him.

"So good for me, my beloved. You're so very good for your King," he whispers, undoing the buckle of the gag and letting it fall free, massaging the dwarf's sore jaw. Thorin shivered with delight at the praise, tucking his head against Ori's neck as he comes down from his high. The scribe gives him as much time as he needs to find his way back from the submissive corner of his mind, hands petting through his hair and over his battle scarred back. The one time he had rushed this part had ended with Thorin distressed and on edge the remainder of the evening and Ori had come to understand just how important it was to tell his pet when he'd been good, and to reward him for his obedience. 

Only when Thorin has fully relaxed on Ori's lap does the scribe sit up, his softened length slipping from the King's body and drawing a displeased noise from them both. Still, it wouldn't do for one of Thorin's aged advisors to walk in on them like this. Ori was pretty sure most of their wizened old hearts wouldn't survive the surprise.

"Gotta get up and dress, my pet. Can't properly wash you until we're back in our rooms," he chuckled when Thorin made a grumbling noise in protest. He eventually surrendered, though, to this logic and stood up on wobbly legs, movements still uncoordinated as he pulled on his clothes. Ori let himself take a moment to admire the way his come was leaking down Thorin's thighs and the faint bruising on his throat, coupled with the darker bruises left by his teeth. If he squinted he could even still see the bruised outlines from their rope play a few nights ago on Thorin's back and chest. 

His King looked beautiful with Ori's marks mottling his skin for all the world to see.

He almost regrets having to stand and dress himself, careful with the golden crown as he removes it and sets it down on the throne behind him. He keeps the leather overcoat, though, sliding it back on once he's dressed in his layers again, for now devoid of anything knitted due to the summer heat that had settled over the mountain. Even the sleeveless coat is warm with the fur lining it but he likes it too much to care, reaching up to grip Thorin's chin and turn the King's face so he can meet his gaze. Already he's less tense than he'd been this morning when Ori had caught sight of him at the council meeting, and his expression is softer and more open. More than the bruises, Ori liked seeing such obvious signs of himself on his King like this. 

"Tomorrow you are free from any meetings and mine surveys?" he asked, cupping his palm against Thorin's cheek and rubbing it gently.

"I am. The council is in recess until we hear from King Bard about trading negotiations and the mines are closed for the festival the metal and gem workers are hosting to show off their work," Thorin murmured, sliding his hand over Ori's against his face and smiling fondly down at his scribe. 

Ori grinned at this and grabbed at his braids to pull his King down for a sound kiss, swiping his tongue across the seam of his swollen lips.

"Good. Then don't make any plans to leave our bed. I just finished making a new toy for you and I want to see if you'll like it. Now come with me so we can get you washed up for dinner," Ori growled playfully, giving his braids one last tug before leading his dwarf towards their rooms, fingers tangled easily with Thorin's own.

Whatever fool believed that Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain took Ori, son of Fori, as his Consort because he was weak, clearly lacked a fundamental understanding of the ways of the world. Ori made him better, made him stronger, and to Thorin that meant more than all the gold and jewels in Erebor.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is so cheesy dear God but I struggled for like a half hour to create a halfway decent ending and this is what happened.


End file.
